


everything in-between

by Ymile



Category: John Wick (2014), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: One Shot, molly stitches up assassins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8946514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ymile/pseuds/Ymile
Summary: she was comfortable among killers





	

**Author's Note:**

> Molly stitches up assassins and is close to some of the deadliest. 
> 
> Inspired by Dinner Reservations. 
> 
> IDK it was just something I wrote quickly.

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights above her were annoying but did not distract her while she carefully sliced open a man's chest. Molly did not know the man in front of her but she took special care as she searched for his cause of death. It was located in his stomach, poison hidden in the duck he had for supper the night before. The duck was disposed of, incinerated without a trace while she stitched him perfectly together, not an organ out of place.

It was an easier job considering who had fulfilled the hit, the poison did not leave any trace in the mouth and did not leave a trail in the body. Once ingested it disintegrated and all that remained was the carrier. She had done similar removals many times but this was a special poison used by only one woman.

Irene Adler was well-known throughout the Continental hotel, its sister hotel in London housed her more than any other safehouse. Her particular set of skills were revered and many other guests of the hotel had more than once tried to steal her methods, but a whip would meet their face before they could even begin to look in her rooms.

Molly Hooper was the on-hand Cleaner at the London Continental, known for her precise hands. The two women had bonded as the hotel after Molly had stitched Irene's finger together so well there was no scar. Irene traced that particular finger as she watched Molly zip the man's body bag shut. After dumping her tools off to an assistant cleaner and peeling off her gloves she turned to Irene with a sweet smile and asked, "Coffee?"

* * *

They strolled down the street arm in arm, their shoes making no sounds. Irene had foregone her usual Louboutin shoes for practical flats, her pressed black pants and white blouse unremarkable. Molly's own cherry jumper with one hole on the sleeve was a bright contrast to the monochrome outfit of her friend. At 6 in the morning no one paid any mind to the two women who clearly had no obvious business with each other, more focused on their commute to work.

In the sun-warmed coffee shop Molly clutched her coffee in two hands while Irene sipped her iced cup. There was a quiet chatter from other patrons and soft music pumped through old speakers barely registered to either woman. Irene set her cup down with a tiny click and asked, "How is that new job at St. Barts? Are you getting along well there?"

"I suppose. It pays well enough, especially for midday shift. My supervisor Mike is nice, a bit bumbly but he doesn't mind if I nip out early sometimes."

"So long as you do not overwork yourself. I am more than well aware how many hours you put in at the Continental Molly."

"You worry too much and you are one to talk. I know you did not sleep for two days on your last job."

"The man never slept either he was so paranoid, and with a right to be."

"Just be aware of the pot calling the kettle black."

Irene smiled, her face was all sharp angles even without her precise makeup but bare-faced there was a more soft look in her eye. Irene leaned over the table and said, "I met someone."

"Who?"

"Her name is Kate. I interviewed her for the assistant position I need."

"And how was the interview?"

Irene leaned back, "Enlightening."

"So she made you come?"

A half-laugh came before her response, "So crass Miss Hooper, what would your father say?"

"I am sure he would have much to say. He had many words about you as well."

"Do leave a flower for me when you visit him next please?"

Molly nodded, "Of course."

They sat in silence for a moment, Molly stared into her coffee for a moment before Irene said, "Oh spit it out Molly."

"What?"

"You are not obtuse, you know I know you want to say something. Tell me."

She fingered the hole in her jumper before saying, "There is this guy I met through work."

"St. Barts?"

"Yes, and he is very handsome. I get a little flustered near him but he is very observant. Had details about my life pegged from my outfit or some nonsense. He is rather brilliant, he had my father's sickness diagnosed and even managed to figure out where I lived."

She paused and Irene waved a hand for her to go on, "He observed but he didn't _see_. Am I that invisible that a man I fancy really does not see what I really am?"

"And what are you really?"

"A Cleaner so unremarkable it's amazing my employer remembers my name."

Irene slapped a hand down over Molly's and leaned in close, "Molly. You are the best cleaner that hotel has ever had, the reason your employer barely comes around you is because he respects you and your work. He does not bother you because he trusts in your abilities, he constantly goes to his American hotel because he does not trust them alone for very long, you know how Americans are. If this man were really brilliant, if he could really _see_ , then he would not be wasting his time looking at dead bodies when he could be looking at you."

Molly smiled weakly at her, "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. Especially when it comes to men. I know their tiny little minds the moment I meet them, sometimes before. Tell me what this man's name is. I think I'd like to meet him sometime."

"Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

In the Continental Molly strolled upstairs to meet Winston, they had an outstanding appointment to meet to discuss any new Cleaners. In the darkened bar she spotted him in his favorite table, the red light beaming on his face made him look sinister but he only had a courteous smile for her as she approached. He rose from his chair and moved hers for her. Once they were both seated he said, "Dr. Hooper, it has been too long."

"It really has sir."

"I trust you have had no issues since our last meeting?"

"Nothing worth mentioning."

"Good."

He beckoned with one hand and a waitress appeared with two drinks for them, a scotch for Winston and red wine for Molly. She never indulged at work except for when she met with her employer. They discussed transfers from America and once they had settled on who would be working for her he said, "I nearly forgot to mention Doctor, I have been made aware that at your other employment there is a man of repute who frequently stops by. Should I be worried?"

"Do I ever give you a reason to worry?"

With a smile he said, "Of course not, you are just like your father. The Hooper doctors are the best and the most discreet. Your uncle does remarkable work in America, have you seen him of late?"

"We have spoken recently, he seems to be at home over there."

"Have you ever been to America?"

"I was there for a little while, I worked temporarily at your American hotel."

"Ah yes, I had nearly forgotten. The Doctor there laments your loss to this day."

She smiled, the old man had been a wonderful mentor and she missed him.

"I meant to ask as well Dr. Hooper, a friend of mine, perhaps an acquaintance of yours has recently left us. I wondered if you were going to attend his wedding?"

"Ah you mean John. Yes I was planning to do so, I received the invitation a month ago."

"Excellent, have you met the bride-to-be?"

"I have, Helen and I were friends while I was there. She did not really know the extent of my work and I liked that."

"Then I look forward to seeing you there."

* * *

Molly was up to her elbows cleaning out the sink at the end of the morgue when a headless body was rolled in. She glanced over it quickly as the paramedics moved her quickly onto the table, the dress was designer as was every other part of her down to her nails. Molly held one hand up to her eyes to inspect it, it was the exact shade it was meant to be, maybe even from the same bottle Irene used.

Once the paramedics were gone Molly allowed herself a small smile, happy at her assistant's work. It did not take much to come up with a similar body to Irene's but the trick was fooling someone who thought they knew her. Molly saw no flaws in the forgery and began her work as she cut the black dress away.

Later, once Sherlock and Mycroft had stormed out of the morgue, Molly saw to it that the death certificate was written quickly. The cause of death was undetermined but more than likely was due to the dismemberment. She did not really care who the body belonged to, only that it was gone quickly.

* * *

In the basement of the Continental Molly stitched another client back together, gave them painkillers and sent them on their way. He shrugged his coat on as he left and passed a woman in sharp heels coming in.

Irene tugged on Molly's hair to get her attention and she swung around to grin at her friend.

"I can see why you like him, he is not the most observant fellow but he certainly see's what he wants to see."

"I heard your little trick worked wonders."

"Even brilliant men can be reduced when shown a naked body. I had wondered for a moment if he really was not interested but that was fixed quickly. I'll admit the appearance of the CIA was sooner than I had expected, John's trail certainly was cold enough but I had hoped to miss them."

"Did they give you many problems?"

"Not really, Sherlock was a good distraction. Would you like to join me for tea?"

Molly stood, "Of course."

* * *

She laughed into her biscuit as Irene regaled her with Sherlock's reveal that she was in fact attracted to him.

"You were completely right he see's what he really wants to see. I did not anticipate my complete and utter love for him but I guess I should not have been surprised. You described him to a tee as well, he really should get his eyebrows done it would do him wonders really."

"I'll be sure to pass that along."

"I might as well tell him myself, great clot that he is his brother planted a story of myself being beheaded. Ironic considering how I originally went out, and Sherlock apparently has some grand idea of saving me. I owe Mycroft so I agreed. Rather a waste of time really, but I did adore the outfits for that region and it's always lovely to see Khalida."

"Oh tell me, how is her daughter coming along?"

"15 and as good with a knife as her mother was at her age."

"I should go on holiday out there sometime." Molly sighed.

"You should have come with me, it's not as if the Great Detective would have noticed. We should have gone and you should have been there with me, imagine how much fun it would have been!"

Molly rested her chin in her hand, "Yes, because I can get away from here so easily."

"That's your own fault. I'm sure the Continental could survive without you for a few days."

She contemplated for a moment then mentioned, "Have you seen John since he passed through?"

"No, just for the little while when he was here to throw off that trail he still has. Relentless those agents are, certainly don't make them as smart as they used to."

"Obviously. Anyway he told me a few months ago Helen wasn't doing too well. I wanted to visit her and check on him, that shoulder of his is apparently still bothering him."

"Let's make a date of it."

* * *

St. Barts was silent in the morgue as usual. The other assistant took the day off so Molly had it all to herself, she hooked her music to the speakers and let it play quietly while she did inventory. It wasn't too odd for her to be alone, she had opted out of many social gatherings after John and Mary's wedding.

Tom had finally gone away. She didn't think he would be with her for so long, he had built the cover for long enough and he was nice enough but she had had enough of him by the end of the wedding reception. His particular cover needed to be a lonely dumpee in order to get close to his next target and she wanted a favor from him anyway.

The sleeping arrangements hadn't been too oppressive, she had been able to get some sexual frustrations figured out with him which had been nice. She had been considering booking Irene for a session before Tom had come along. But once he was gone she was fine being alone again, Sherlock had shown her some emotions as of late but she had grown bored of him.

She was concerned about him for sure, he still thought she had just been exceptionally clever with how she helped him fake his death. He didn't see that this was a practiced routine for her, gaining anonymous bodies and writing fake autopsies with a flourish. Molly had hoped that as he was not a part of her particular lifestyle that he could figure something out, but was disappointed when he did not.

A soft ping on her cell phone distracted her from her task and she checked it to see a message from Winston.

_I have a guest coming to my London location, he will need some special attention._

He must be very close to Winston in order to him to ask Molly to attend him personally. She finished her shift and waved off her replacement as she left. Her practical shoes made no sound as she took the steps down into the Tube station, it was faster than a cab to her destination and did not have the annoyance of taxi drivers.

Once at the hotel the concierge Tony greeted her and presented her with one piece of mail, written in Winston's distinct hand.

"You have a guest already in your rooms Dr. Hooper."

"Thank you Tony."

The white marble lobby was spotless under her feet and she gripped her jumper closer to her body, the chill in the air was necessary but unwelcome in her opinion. The gold elevator quickly took her to her private rooms, she did not use them often but were nice to have on hand. In the white rooms she was greeted by an unremarkable looking man who stood out in his all-black suit. His face was bruised his knuckles were barely scabbed.

Molly let out a laugh of delight and went to him quickly, hugging him tight.

"I haven't seen you in so long John. What are you doing here?"

In his quiet voice he said, "I needed a change of scenery."

"I thought you weren't going to come back."

"I wasn't I was pulled back in."

His eyes were heavy but they had been ever since Helen had died. Molly had wept at her funeral but John hadn't had any words for her then. She had heard a rumor of him getting back in the game and even saw the reports of what happened in America, but didn't contact him just in case he was still mourning his wife.

"Well, I hope you haven't come here just on business. I'm sure Irene will be delighted to see you as well!"

A nudging at her leg distracted her and she looked to see a beautiful brown dog looking up at her, with a small squeal she knelt down to rub the dog's face.

"Who is this?"

"Maybell."

"Maybell you are so beautiful!"

Molly looked around for a moment, "Where is Daisy?"

John's face lost any emotion he had had and said, "She's gone."

The look in his eye made her tread carefully, "I'm sorry to hear that. Helen made sure I knew when to send her, she was a sweet puppy."

"She was."

Neither said anything as Molly continued to pet Maybell, then she asked, "Did you need any stitching up?"

"Not really, I was more so looking for company."

"I'm glad to give it."

* * *

Molly and John walked with Maybell on her red leash through Greenwich park, the fall air was slightly chilly but John didn't need anything other than his suit jacket. Molly was bundled in her pink and black scarf and tucked her hand in John's elbow. They chatted about any recent colleagues they had when John brought up Irene.

"Is she still in London?"

"Not currently, I believe she had a job in Rome. But I'm sure she will pop back soon once she hears you're here."

As they continued on Molly noticed Greg Lestrade ahead, she didn't make to hide herself and he lit up when he saw her coming near.

"Hello Molly, chilly innit?"

"Too chilly if you ask me, how are you Greg?"

"I'm doing well, just out with my nephews, giving my sister a break."

"That's lovely."

"It is." He glanced at John's dark figure, John's face being neutral and Greg said, "And who is this?"

"Oh forgive me Greg, this is my friend John. He's visiting from America."

They shook hands and John still said nothing, "So how did you meet Molly then John?"

"Work."

Greg knew he wasn't about to get much from him and said, "Well I'll let you get on Molly, I'll see you around then."

"Cheers Greg."

"Cheers."

They walked away and Greg watched them go, a nagging in his gut as they left his sight. He could have sworn he had seen John's face before.

* * *

At the hotel the two took dinner in Molly's private rooms and made quick work of the fish that had been sent before sitting on her couch to read. John cleaned out his personal gun while she did so and after a bit her phone buzzed.

_Can you meet me in St. Bart's? -SH_

_Sorry bit busy._

_Pls? -SH_

_No_

She turned her ringtone off and returned to her book, Sherlock had angered her after they found him using again. Of all the stupid things he was she couldn't believe he had gone back to that drug. She was more than well aware what it did, jobs being based on it's transport.

"Who was that?"

"No one important."

* * *

Irene came back a week later and she hugged John tightly in the lobby. It wasn't often the two saw one another, but they worked well together. They all stayed in Molly's rooms and reminisced about Helen, and it made John's heart hurt just a little less.

* * *

"Molly!"

She turned to look at Greg strolling in, his hands in his jacket pockets and his head tilted slightly. He only ever acted like that when he was interested in something or investigating.

"Hello Greg, what are you doing down here? Case?"

"No I thought I would drop in, see how you are."

"I'm well, and you?"

"Oh I'm alright."

Neither said anything else and Molly looked back down at the corpse who her hands were currently in.

"This isn't a great time Greg."

"Yeah I can see that. Do you mind if we pop out for some tea?"

She hesitated for a moment, "I suppose."

After cleaning up they walked down the street to a fish and chips stand, while they sat and munched on a bench Greg said, "So how's your friend John? Still hanging around?"

She looked over at him but he was focused on his chips and she said, "Yeah, he's on a business trip."

"What kind of business?"

"Administrative."

"Of what?"

"Bank."

"You're very descriptive Molls."

She hadn't stopped looking at him before suddenly rising, "I'm sorry Greg I forgot I have an appointment. Can we catch up another time?"

"Yeah! Cheers Molls."

"Cheers."

Walking away quickly she dumped her food in a bin before pulling out her work phone. She dialed John's number and he picked up after one ring.

"Molly."

"John where are you?"

"The Continental."

"Stay there."

* * *

At the hotel she took the front doors and approached Tony and said, "I'm going to need extra pillows sent to my room if you would Tony?"

"But of course Doctor, three?"

"Five if you will."

"I will see to it immediately."

She went down to her office to find John sitting stiffly with Maybell next to him. He turned his head only a little to look at her and she paced for a moment.

"He's found me out."

"Who?"

"Greg. I had hoped fucking Sherlock would be the one to but of course it was Greg. I overlooked him when I shouldn't have. Reckless."

"He did get a strange glint in his eye. I didn't think my reputation had followed me here."

"The last I checked you weren't on any current lists on any network. I must have missed something."

"You never do."

"I know that's why I'm trying to figure out how he knows."

* * *

The marble lobby was currently being dirtied by Scotland Yard's best footprints. They had swarmed the empty room to find only Tony at his post, writing in the ledgers. He barely blinked at the swarm of officers before him and asked, "I'm sorry, are you here to see someone?"

Greg went to the front and presented an old wanted poster, "Yeah we're looking for this man, goes by John Wick."

"I'm afraid I do not have anyone listed here under that name."

"Check for Molly Hooper."

Tony turned the pages of the checked-in book and replied, "There are no women under that name staying here either. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, this here is a warrant to search every room in this place."

Tony put his glasses on to read the paper while Lestrade grabbed the ledger, the book was full of signatures but none in Molly's handwriting. Tony raised his colorless eyes to stare at the Inspector, "These all seem to be in order. We do have a privacy policy however and I will be contacting my employers."

"You do that, we'll be getting started yeah?"

He turned to his unit and spoke, "Listen up, you all know who we're looking for and you know how dangerous he is. No one goes anywhere alone and I want him here quickly. Do not harm Doctor Hooper if she is with him."

They spread throughout the hotel and many of the guests were unsurprised to see them, all were willing to comply and the search was fruitless of the ten floors. Lestrade stormed back downstairs to the main floor where Tony was on the phone with Winston.

"Yes of course sir, the warrant is being executed as we speak but I do not believe the man they are searching for is here. I apologize for having bothered you, I will be sure to call on you again this evening. When may I also expect our new curtains?"

Greg waited for the conversation to end impatiently and Tony said, "Of course sir, we will expect them on the fifth. A good evening to you sir. Thank you."

He hung up the phone and folded his hands on the counter, his white suit jacket never creasing with any movement.

"Were you able to find your fugitive sir?"

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Are there any back doors to this place."

"Why yes, there is a kitchen entrance, a staff entrance, and an outside entrance to our cellar."

Greg snapped his fingers and a patrol officer came to him, "Take Jordan with you to the cellar."

"Yes sir."

* * *

The cellar was full of wine and the giant fridge was cold with shelves of meat. The officers got out quickly, never noticing the small slit in the corner of the fridge that was the entrance to Molly's office. She watched on her security cameras as they began to leave slowly, Greg paced in frustration in the lobby and she sat in her soft chair as John stroked Maybell.

"I shouldn't have been so worried. Tony executed the fifth contingency flawlessly, he certainly is worth whatever Winston pays him."

"I don't doubt it, he trained Charon after all."

"How is he? Is he still with Victor?"

"As far as I know."

* * *

Greg rang on 221B's door and ran a hand through his hair. Mrs. Hudson answered with a jolly smile and welcomed him in, ushering him up the stairs. In the apartment Sherlock was hunched over a computer while John read a magazine, Andrew gurgled on the floor as he chewed on his favorite toy. Sherlock's eyes snapped to Lestrade and asked, "What?"

"I have a problem."

* * *

In Molly's own apartment Toby sniffed Maybell cautiously as Molly brewed some tea. John was on her computer looking through the police's files online, she offered him a cup and sat next to him.

"There's nothing about me in here."

"He was in that hotel for a reason."

"Maybe he was looking for someone else."

"Unlikely, he was interrogating me. I knew it."

They both continued to stare as the screen changed constantly, her computer was set up to be untraceable and was hacked into the police's mainframe. It came in handy when deleting or changing certain jobs that had floated to police attention. Molly rubbed her eyes and said, "I still can't believe bloody Lestrade figured me out. I have seven years on this cover, longest one I've ever had damn him."

"Impressive stretch."

"Yeah and I want to continue it. I like London."

"You could always come to America. I'm sure Doc would like to see you."

"I don't know, Rome always sounded nice. The hotel there allegedly has a roof pool."

* * *

Sherlock leaned back, unbelieving of Lestrade's tale. John let out a laugh, "You expect us to believe you saw Molly with a wanted assassin? This is Molly for god's sake."

Greg's face was hard, "I didn't want to believe it either, when I realized who he was I thought I was mistaken."

He unfolded the wanted poster. It originated from Ireland and was yellowed with age, "This is from the beginning of my career, my SO had us on this case of a known drug dealer in Dublin who dropped dead without warning. The only witness said it was this man, caught on camera on a bar across the street. Only footage of him we've ever been able to get."

"How so?"

"He's a ghost. In the little information we were able to squeeze from some rats we got the name John Wick."

Sherlock's eyes, which had drifted to his phone, snapped back to Lestrade's. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I assume you've heard of him?"

"Baba Yaga? Yes he was a popular name in Moriarty's network. They wanted to hire him but he dropped off the map. Are you saying you saw Molly with him?"

"Yes."

* * *

There was a sharp knock on her door and John approached with his hand behind his back. Through the peephole he saw Irene standing there with her large black purse, he opened the door for her and she strolled in.

"Well this certainly wasn't how I wanted to meet again John."

She kissed his cheek and called for Molly. In the living room Molly was standing in front of her fireplace burning what few items she had that could link her to the Continental. John had wiped her work phone before crushing it and tossing the SIM card into the fire. Molly hugged Irene and gave her an exaggerated eye roll.

"Really Molly, the Inspector?"

"John thinks he remembered him from Ireland. It's the only place he can think of where the police have an image of him, but it's so old it's barely recognizable as him."

"Better safe than sorry I suppose. Tony provided the extraction?"

"Yeah, they wiped my office clean and sealed it for now in case they return. I wish I had grabbed my scarf though, I'm sure Tony has it."

"I'll stop by and get it for you."

"I'm not sure if you should, the police are probably watching the hotel."

"But the tunnels are still there."

"Yes it's how most of the guests left."

"There we go."

* * *

John Watson drummed his fingers on his knee as they rode in the taxi to the Continental hotel, Lestrade would meet them there and Sherlock was staring at his phone. His fingers hovered over his conversation messages with Molly, uncertain of what to type, it wasn't something he saw of the detective very often.

"Will you just message her. Greg has to be wrong."

Sherlock said nothing and continued to stare at his glowing screen, thoughts racing through his head. He thought back on any interaction, searching for anything he might have missed.

What did Greg see that he didn't?

* * *

At the hotel Tony was courteous to them once again but steadfastly refused to let them search again.

"Your warrant was executed already sir. It was an inconvenience but we accommodated and now many of our guests are disgruntled. We do not let wanted men or women stay in our hotel and you will need to get another warrant to search us again, which will likely not come considering that there was and is still nothing to be found. Good day sir."

The dismissal was clear and the three stood out on the street, the doorman watching them closely. Sherlock walked down the street quickly, John rolled his eyes and followed suit. They walked down and turned right before Sherlock led the other two down an alley where a nondescript door was locked, he made quick work of it while Greg looked away.

No one was in the cellar when they went in and nothing looked amiss for a private hotel, the wines costing nearly as much as Sherlock's violin. He crawled all over the room, rustling all the shelves before throwing open the fridge. He looked around for a moment before zeroing in on a bottom corner, he dove to the ground to run his finger along the seam of the floor.

"What is it?"

"This is a new seam."

"Is there more to the cellar?"

"There must be, the seam is almost flawless except for the bottom. They burned the floor when they held a blowtorch for too long."

"It's sealed and it's not as if we have the tools to break open a wall, what good does this do us?"

Sherlock stood and ran his hand along the corner before rushing out of the fridge. He searched along the outside and Greg asked, "Mind telling us what you're looking for so we can help?"

"A vent, air has to get in that room somehow."

* * *

"You really want to dye my hair."

"You might as well."

"Irene they don't even have proof of anything, what would be the point."

"To be prepared."

Molly pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips, "Only if Sherlock texts me. Greg would go to him first."

"Why aren't they here yet?" John asked. "This would be the first place to look for you right?"

"Yes but if I know them and I've observed them for years, they will look for evidence first. Because there's no way Molly Hooper would do any wrong." She said with a twist of her mouth. "You would think they'd remember how I helped him die for christ's sake."

Irene laughed, "Oh my dear, he's probably confused."

"You'll have to mention them by name, all three can be easily confused."

"Sherlock of course, I kept tabs on him, thought it would be fun but he's dreadfully boring. I can't tell what you see in him."

"Neither can I honestly."

* * *

Sherlock had found the vent after hoisting himself on the shelves, there was a tiny slit where the ceiling and the top of the fridge barely met and he could feel the air movement. He was searching along the far wall when a soft tapping came from a vent in the floor. He stared at it as did John and Greg, feet came lightly down the steps and they flattened themselves into a corner.

One of the lobby boys went to the round vent, presumably for water as the floor dipped down to it, and twisted it open. He spoke softly into the hole before replacing the vent, once in place he reached for a vent in the wall and twisted it like a doorknob and a seamless door swung open to reveal a staircase. The boy beckoned to a person and a man in a dirty wet suit came up.

The boy closed the door before offering a towel to the man, it became obvious that his torso was bleeding from the way he clutched it, "Is the doctor in?"

"No sir, she is temporarily unavailable."

"Can she make a room visit."

"Unfortunate circumstances have left her unavailable to us for any service. Her assistant is currently on his way, he will be taking care of you. Room 304 sir?"

"Yeah my usual."

The lobby boy began up the steps with the man following slowly when Greg jumped out with his gun before John could grab him.

"Hands up!"

* * *

Molly's phone rang and she snatched it up to answer, "Tony?"

"Doctor, I'm afraid we will only have three pillows sent up to you. I hope we have given you enough notice?"

"You have."

"They will be clean of course, we will send them over in an hours time."

"Thank you."

She hung up and said, "It's time to go."

* * *

Leaving the flat was easy, all the books and clothes would be easily replaced but Molly felt a pang of longing. She had bought it with the money from her pathologist job, which she had truly enjoyed. Her Italian would have to be good enough to get another position in Rome.

Toby shifted in irritation in his cat carrier, he was the only thing she would take with her. Even the clothes she wore were not hers, but Irene's who had thought to bring extra just in case. The three traveled in a taxi before stopping outside a Tube station, they went down to the train and waited for the next Piccadilly Circus line to come through. Three tickets waited for them at Heathrow.

* * *

Sherlock slammed open Molly's flat before running around. Nothing was out of place except her phone was in the center of her coffee table, lit with his texts. He sniffed the air and said, "There's been a dog in here."

Greg said, "Guy had a brown dog. They must have been here."

"And there's a hint of Tom Ford's Black Orchid. Molly doesn't wear that she wears a perfume from The Body Shop. She doesn't know anyone who wears-"

He stopped as he stared down at a bottle of nail polish, the Rouge Louboutin bottle was sharp and distinctive, just as its owner was.

Snapping his head up he said, "We need to get to the airport."

* * *

The three of them waited patiently in line to check in, Molly's finger entwined with Irene's. John held Maybell's leash as he spoke to Winston on the phone, the tickets were ready to go all they had to do was grab them. It would have been easier with the self-checkout but they had both the animals to also check in.

Irene's phone buzzed and she let go of Molly to look at her text, her lips twitched into a smile as she showed Molly her screen.

_Stay where you are with Molly. -SH_

She didn't respond to his text, "He's rather quick with the uptake. I wonder how long it took them to get to your flat and to see my nail varnish."

"Oh did you leave that? That was rather expensive wasn't it?"

Waving her hand dismissively, "It can be replaced."

Her phone buzzed again and she deleted the message before even reading it, "I have this fabulous flat in Rome Molly you're going to love it. The bed is so soft and I think you'll really like the baths."

"I'm going to need a long soak once we get there."

* * *

Greg floored his car as the sirens blared, John and Sherlock hanging on desperately as they attempted to get through the airport traffic. He had his phone on speaker as Sally told them there was no sight of them on the CCTV cameras.

"Where are they going? If I can figure out what counter they're headed for this would be easier!"

"For fuck's sake Sally just _look_!"

Sherlock yelled, "Look for any planes that are leaving within the hour, they wouldn't wait for anything later!"

* * *

They were strolling through the airport, Irene's heels clicking loudly as they went along. She wasn't a personal fan of Heathrow but they did have lovely private lounges, not that they would be enjoying any of them.

John handed their tickets to the attendant at the private lounge entrance and with a smile she let them in. A pilot stood up quickly from his seat to take Irene's hand and kiss it, "Miss Adler, everything is ready to go."

"Excellent, we'll be off then."

The tickets were for a large plane bound for South America, which were left with the attendant who burned them and deleted the tickets from the system. The three were boarding Winston's private plane bound for Rome, they settled into the luxurious seats and Molly let Toby out of his case in order to hold him. Then the plane began to move and they waited in the queue for takeoff.

* * *

Greg's badge had managed to get them through the airport quickly and the counter Sally had seen the dog by had a cashier who recognized Molly's picture. She pointed them down the hallway their departure gate had been down, they ran right past the private lounge where the attendant only curiously stared at them.

* * *

Flying over the Channel Irene unhooked her seatbelt to stand and stretch her legs. She kicked off her heels and poured herself a drink from the cart before fixing something for the other two. Molly took her White Russian and sipped it while John gulped down his water. Irene leaned on Molly's chair to pet Toby before saying, "You know, I can't wait to go shopping with you. I bet we can find you a jumper that doesn't have any holes in it for once."


End file.
